


Last night (and the morning after)

by rsadelle



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Double Penetration, Drugged Sex, M/M, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-03 03:44:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11523843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rsadelle/pseuds/rsadelle
Summary: What it takes to get Q on a plane results in a hangover and patchy memories of the night before. He'll remember the morning's activities more clearly.





	Last night (and the morning after)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a 007 Fest anonymous prompt: "00q go to washington dc only to be picked up by felix at the airport and taken to a luxury hotel where the agents can have their way with q before their appointment at the CIA."
> 
> **Content Note:** Drugged sex that the character only somewhat remembers.

Q wakes up slowly. Ugh, the hangover that comes from what he has to do to get on a plane. He feels muddled and he's going to need at least two cups of something caffeinated before his meeting.

He starts to roll over, and whimpers. He's sore enough for that movement to hurt. And that's not from the drugs.

Q opens his eyes and squints against the light coming through the windows. Someone, probably James, has opened the heavier curtains, leaving only the filmy ones that obscure details while still letting all the sunshine in. It's terrible.

"What did we do last night?"

"A number of things," James answers him.

"Nothing you didn't enjoy." That voice isn't James's.

Q gropes for his glasses where he knows James would have put them on the nightstand and turns toward the voice as he slides them on. A large black man in a light tan suit lounges in one of the chairs. Leiter. Felix, James called him.

Q groans. "Oh, god, you took turns." There are bits of memory floating to the surface of his mind. James's cock in him, thrusting long and slow, and then Felix's, hard and implacable. They'd gone back and forth, using the switching off to make it last. That hadn't been a problem for Q; it takes him ages to come on benzos.

"Mmm, yes." James comes over to kiss his temple. He brings a cup of something steaming.

Felix watches them like he'd be up for doing it again. He's very fit, strength obvious in a different way to James's.

Q sits up carefully and hides his face in the cup - coffee, not tea - to avoid offering that option himself. "I need a shower."

"And breakfast," James agrees. He rubs his thumb over Q's cheek. "Another cup after this, too."

Q leans into the touch. "Yes, please. Shower first." He drains the cup and gives it back to James.

Felix is still watching him, posed casually in the chair.

Q looks away from him and slides out of bed. He can still feel James and Felix watching him walk to the bathroom. He tries not to let it faze him; they did, after all, do quite a lot more than watch last night.

What did they do? His memory is still coming back in flashes, aided by what he knows they did based on how his body feels. His arse is sore, his hips overstretched. His prick, when he holds it to piss, feels raw and overworked.

He gets into the shower and stands unmoving under the hot water. Felix had met them at the airport, and looking back, he should have known that wasn't protocol. Leiter was far too high on the ladder to be given chauffeur duty.

They'd brought him to the hotel, and Q didn't object in the slightest when James pinned him up against the door. He melted under James's kisses, everything treacle slow while he was still high.

Q remembers James saying, "I've told Felix about you," and then he remembers the two of them stripping him and pushing him into bed. He remembered being hard already, and he remembers wanking while he watched them take their suits off, James first and Felix second.

Q closes his eyes and tips his head back, letting the water wash over his face. He sucked them, maybe. He rubs his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Hint of taste, a familiar feel to it. Definitely sucked them.

He can remember one of them asking, "What should we do with him?" and the other one answering, "Whatever we like, I should think."

Q drops his hand to his cock. Just remembering it is enough to make him hard. He strokes himself a few times, and then gives it up as a bad job. He's too tired, and a little sore. He reaches for the soap instead.

He has no idea where the lube came from, just that there was a lot of it because they took turns fingering him open like they took turns fucking him later. When they fucked him, it was as easy as they could make it, the two of them taking turns pushing into his body.

They had to hold him up at the end. Q almost groans out loud at the way that memory makes his body go hot with arousal and humiliation. He'd been floppy at that point, the benzos still in his system, everything else wrung out by the sex.

Q washes his hair, and that brings up the sense memory of James carding his fingers through Q's hair while he said, "God, look at you." Felix had been fucking him at the time, and Q wasn't sure which one of them he meant. Maybe it was both of them.

Q has no sense of how long they fucked him. It could have been hours. Probably not too many hours; his drugs hadn't worn off by the time they were done. He knows that for sure because he can remember working so hard for it at the end. Fucking on benzos, which he only does when he has to fly and James goes with him, always leaves him working hard for it. It takes so long to come, and he always feels like he's about to come for what feels like its own age before he actually does.

There are marks on him. A bruise on the inside of his thigh, and a bite mark on his hip. Q doesn't remember them leaving those marks.

Brushing his teeth is a relief; as much as he likes sucking cock, his mouth tastes terrible this morning.

He didn't bring clothes with him into the bathroom, and they've already seen everything of him there is to see. Q scrubs his hair as dry as he can and wraps a second towel around his waist.

James and Felix fall silent when he opens the door, and they both turn toward him.

"Feeling better?" James asks.

"To a certain degree," Q allows.

The towel doesn't hide much, and what there is gets harder to hide as Q's cock hardens under the predatory look James gives him.

James stalks across the room toward him. He leans in and kisses Q, deep and possessive and not touching Q anywhere else.

Q is fully hard now, and he knows James knows it from the way James's gaze sweeps up and down his body.

"Felix," James says, "I don't think we're done here." James turns a bit, and then Felix is next to him, giving Q the same sort of heated appraisal.

James's suit is silvery gray, Felix's a golden tan. They're like expensive jewelry laid out for Q's consideration.

"No," Felix says, "I don't think we are." He steps forward and kisses Q.

Q startles, but Felix's hands grip his biceps and keep him in place until Q submits to it.

James pulls away Q's towel, leaving his cock on display for the two of them. Then James palms his arse, which makes Q twitch. The hot water helped, but he's still sore.

"Felix's cock is thicker," James says. "I think I'll fuck you and you can suck him."

As far as Q can remember, that wasn't one of the things they did last night. "James," he says, and even he can't tell if it's a plea or a protest.

The corners of James's eyes crinkle up with his smile. "Don't tell me you aren't up for it." His fingers wrap around Q's cock, and the noise Q makes at that is definitely a plea.

They put him on his hands and knees diagonally across the corner of the bed. Their jackets have been draped over a chair, James's sleeves rolled up. Their zips down and cocks out. James confiscates his glasses.

James uses a lot of lube and takes his time. It's a good idea, and Q lets him at it until he can't bear not to get more from them.

"James, please."

"He didn't beg this prettily last night." Felix's hand cups his chin and tilts his face up. He pushes his thumb into Q's mouth.

Q does his best to fellate Felix's thumb the way he will his cock as soon as they bloody well get on with it.

James chuckles. "This is a midpoint. Last night he just took it. Now he'll beg for it. Later he won't let us get to the point that he needs to beg."

A hot wash of humiliation at James's casual breakdown of his habits runs over Q. If he touches his cock now, he'll come. He curls his hands in the sheets instead.

Even without his glasses, Q can see the speculative gleam in Felix's look.

"I'm looking forward to that." Without any more conversation, Felix takes his thumb out of Q's mouth and shoves his cock in.

Q makes a surprised grunt. He recovers quickly, but just as he's gotten his bearings and is putting all of his considerable talents to use, James's cock pushes slowly but inexorably into his arse. He's well stretched and there's a lot of lube, and it's still almost too much.

Q whines around Felix's cock.

"God!" Felix's hips thrust hard into him, and Q has to relax his throat in a hurry to avoid being choked.

"Good, isn't he?" James says. He sounds perfectly composed, but it must be getting to him because they stop talking and just fuck Q.

There's a rhythm, maybe, but Q needs another cup of coffee before he'll be able to keep up with it. He sucks hard and pushes back onto James's cock. He's not in sync with what they're doing, but it doesn't matter, because they're going to come from it, and he's going to come the moment someone touches his cock.

He could touch himself, uncurl one of his hands and stroke himself off. But he doesn't. He takes it and takes it and takes it. He swallows Felix's come when it spurts into his mouth and takes it when James thrusts deep and stays there as he comes.

They pull out of him, and he doesn't move, gasps for breath in place.

They turn him over, and they change places. Felix has the lube now, and his thick fingers press into Q.

Q cries out when Felix finds his prostate. "Please, please, more."

James bends over him and kisses him while Felix gives him more. Felix's fingers thrust in and out of him, hitting his prostate every time, winding him up tighter and tighter, closer and closer. James kisses him, stealing his breath for long seconds, then letting him gasp in air before doing it again.

Q might come, just from that.

Then a lot of things happen all at once. James kisses him, Felix rubs his prostate, James twists his nipple, and Felix's mouth, warm and wet, closes over his cock.

Q comes so hard he sees stars and he might even pass out for a few seconds. His whole body feels wrung out, his mind empty, his cock limp.

"I need another shower," he says at length.

"Quickly," James says. "We're due at Langley in an hour."

That sets Q's heart to beating with rapid panic. "Shit." He scrambles out of bed. "Shit, shit, shit. That's not enough time."

They follow him to the bathroom and take turns washing their hands at the sink while Q takes a very fast shower. He dries himself well enough to put his clothes on, accepts the second cup of coffee James gives him, and spends five precious minutes unpacking and repacking his messenger bag to be sure nothing's gone astray.

James and Felix look completely calm and unhurried while they watch him do this, of course.

Q looks at a clock. "We're going to be late."

"You'll be right on time." Felix hands him a bagel wrapped in a napkin. "I know all the shortcuts."

James puts his hands on Q's shoulders. "This is only the first meeting. This is going to take a few days."

Right, a few days. Q brings his bagel up to take a bite and stops with the bagel in midair. He looks from James to Felix, perfectly attired silver and gold looking at him with expectation. A few days. He goes hot when he realizes what that means.

James smiles, both arousing and threatening, and he pats his chest, where the inside pocket of his jacket lies. "Don't worry, I have your meds."

Q's knees go weak, and he has to close his eyes to gather himself together. He has a meeting, a very important meeting with the CIA. He can't lose himself to thoughts of James having control of his meds.

He still has to clear his throat twice before he can speak. "We still shouldn't be late."

"Shortcuts," Felix reminds him. His hand is a heavy pressure on Q's shoulder as he guides him out the door. "You don't have to worry about anything."

"Except your meeting." James nudges Q's hand to remind him of the bagel. "We'll take care of everything else."

Of course they will. Q shivers, and can see from the corner of his eyes that neither James nor Felix misses it. Felix smiles, sharklike. James pats the pocket that holds Q's meds. Threats and promises all at once.

Q smiles as he bites into his bagel.


End file.
